The experience has left me thinking over my situation, as a hijab-wearing Muslim woman in the ivory tower. For a long time I have thought of myself as a student and as a researcher. But something of a transition is required, now that I am thinking of myself as an “academic teacher.” Amidst a group of other academics in various fields — from doctors to physicists and geographers — I found myself really thinking about what led me here, and whether this was where I really wanted to be. I was beset by the doubts that I suppose most new teachers face. Could I really make it as a teacher when the stereotype of the socially awkward academic would be all too true in my case?

As a hijab-wearing Muslim, I found myself thinking about what preconceptions I would be facing, how students would react, and whether what I wear could be seen as affecting academic neutrality, always a central theme.

I was the only hijab-wearing woman in the group attending this course. When I have told people in the past that I am a PhD candidate, they tend to jump in with two predictable choices. Something to do with medicine, they say. Dentistry? Pharmacy? Or it’s Middle East Studies. Translation? Arabic? Urdu? Persian? One of those “Islamic” languages?

What a fraud. Nobody “loves literature”. We all have books we love, books we like, books we’re indifferent to, books we admire but can’t enjoy, books we think should never have made it to the printer’s let alone into the cannon. There is no such thing as “literature”.

“Spending some time talking to people who are fascinated by string theory or mathematical equations or working in labs with tea bags and batteries has only deepened my conviction that this is what I want to do with my life.”

Yeah. Because, had you so chosen, the worlds of tea bags and string theory would have been blown apart by the genius brain modestly sheltered under your hijab. After all, it’s not like you’re a dipshit who can’t count to five or anything.

Drunk_by_Noon

“What a fraud. Nobody “loves literature”. We all have books we love, books we like, books we’re indifferent to, books we admire but can’t enjoy, books we think should never have made it to the printer’s let alone into the cannon. There is no such thing as “literature”.”